


One

by Dekka



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Awkward, Beds, M/M, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 02:09:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14250810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dekka/pseuds/Dekka
Summary: With the way Mitch gets playfully swatted at by friends and teammates alike, it's no surprise that he's the reigning champ of the Toronto Maple Leaf's in house, on the road, wrestling matches.





	One

**Author's Note:**

> super fake even though it'd be really great if it wasn't

Auston knows it wouldn't be cool to avoid Mitch, but with the guys competing for the title of best wrestler and with Mitch being the only one undefeated (he fights dirty, Auston swears by it), he has no choice but to keep himself at arm's length from the situation. 

He knows this is the right option because the second he gives in and agrees to wrestle he finds himself pinned to the bed by his wrists while Mitch straddles his waist. So, it’s bad. Auston barely has time to berate himself as he goes painfully breathless and Mitch, panting above him, claims his victory.

"I could move," Auston says, just to say something. 

Along with the words, a heavy moment passes between them, both of them unblinking as they try to read the other through the thickness suddenly clouding the air. Against the bed, Auston can feel where their weight is too much, the springs giving way and forcing their bodies somehow closer. 

The feeling is gone too soon; Mitch hums, a smile spreading across his face as he presses more of his weight down. "Try," he taunts. 

It's the way he says it, or maybe just the confidant smirk on his face, that makes Auston stomach swoop with warmth, his eyes slipping closed as his mind tries to block out the feel of Mitch so close, his ass settled perfectly in the bow of Auston's spread legs. 

His arms tense, his muscles constricting, but there's not an ounce of give, not even with the forty pound difference between them. 

The smile Mitch gives him this time is different somehow. It's less triumphant, more subdued. 

Auston can't stop looking up at him, both of them blinking helplessly between too-long pauses when they probably should be separating.

"I'm letting you pin me," Auston lies, breathless. 

They both know who's in control of the situation. 

"Try harder," Mitch taunts, and Auston, never one to quit while he's still ahead, does. 

Any ground he had standing crumbles beneath him. 

Bucking up does nothing but push him closer to a mental break down. Twisting under Mitch works even less; Auston's wrists end up pinned behind his back, Mitch's weight heavy on his thighs in a way that does nothing but make him wish they had less clothes and more time. 

The final straw comes as Mitch leans over him, his breath a hot breeze that sends shivers down Auston's spine. "I'm going to win," he mocks. 

Auston squirms just to get away from the feeling, but there's no reprieve. If anything, Mitch's hands tighten around his wrists, holding him down in way that shouldn't be hot but really, really is. 

"I'm calling it," Willy decides, his look all too knowing as he ends Auston's struggle. "Mitch wins." 

If it weren't for the way he drags Mitch off of him, Auston would doubt he was even there, his voice too muffled by the heartbeat thudding through his ears. As it is, though, the physicality of someone dragging Mitch away shakes him to a clear head faster than nearly anything would. 

The new clarity comes with the realization that the guys around them are shifting uncomfortably, not as oblivious to the sexual tension as Auston hoped they would be. 

"Show's over," Marty tells the rookies, pulling Brownie and Zach to their feet. If he has to grab Willy by the collar of his shirt on the way out, well then, Auston's got some thank yous to give in the morning. 

As their teammates file out, awkward goodbyes exchanged, Auston hovers by the door. 

It isn't until the last player leaves that Mitch turns around, his back against the door like a barricade. 

"Round two?' he asks, an eyebrow raised perfectly in jest.

If Auston trips in his haste to get back up on the bed, then at least there's no one there to see it.

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm buzzed and this happened- thank God for auto correct! I'll probably fix it in the morning? Maybe? 
> 
> all mistakes are my own
> 
> Comments feed the writer :)


End file.
